


Fevered Minds

by gameofwords



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Battle, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, House Baratheon, House Stark, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 12:55:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19151446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gameofwords/pseuds/gameofwords
Summary: They know how to fight and win battles but they don't know how to deal with their emotions.What will happen when Arya and Gendry find themselves in situations where their talents on battlefield won't help.





	Fevered Minds

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Readers, 
> 
> A few things before you go read this thing i wrote. 
> 
> 1) Arya and Gendry are hard to write, I had to rewrite it three times but i am still not satisfied with the result so please be merciful.  
> 2) I love Arya and Gendry together but i have never written romance in detail before so i am bad at it too.  
> 3) I plan on writing this as multi-chapter thing but i am not sure so your comments might help plus i am slow at updating so sorry in advance.  
> 4) English is not my first language and i am bad at spellings so i am sorry for that as well.
> 
> In short i am bad at this but i am doing it so.... idk i hope you guys enjoy it.

It took years to find her way back to Winterfell, a journey that started when she was a child of just nine name days, traveling in a merry spirit to Kings landing with her father and sister, leaving her home behind has finally ended with her return to Winterfell but now standing here on the battlements of Winterfell, looking into the complete and utter darkness of this night, the night when the dead are marching towards them and soon they all will be dead just like her Father, Mother, Robb, Rickon and so many other names and faces she met during her journey are. Maybe what Samwell Tarly said during the war council was true, Death indeed is about forgetting and being forgotten, because when the dead will consume them all, who will be there to remember them, to remember her, to remember these walls of Winterfell and the stories that it held.

She took a deep breath, the cold wind hurting her throat a little and she smiles. _Death has many faces_ she told Gendry just this morning in the forge and she is looking forward to meet this one. She has never seen a wight before but she have heard about them from Jon,Gendry,Bran and all those who have seen them and all of them seems to hold their breaths, fear evident in their eyes as they talk about those icy creatures, she truly wants to see what they look like, all those stories that old nan use to tell her and bran when they were children, she wants to see them by herself, just like she saw the dragons.

There is a small assembly just in the inner walls of Winterfell, the unsullied were practicing their formations apart from that the castle seems empty, as if there was no one around, she could see people in the courtyard but they were all silent, it truly will be their last night on world it seems.

When Jon’s wildling friend and Beric arrived this morning, they told them that the living have the time until dawn, the moment she heard that she made a mental list of things she had to do before she dies and now at this late hour she was almost done with her list, she have visited the crypts, saw her brothers and sister for the last time, roam around every corner of Winterfell trying to memorize it before it all ends, took a bath in the hot springs, sparred with Brienne for the last time, made her peace with the Hound and Beric and now there was only one thing left on her list or just one person, _Gendry_.

She came this far, years of training and hiding her emotions but their were only two men who cracked her mask, one was Jon, though he was a lot different from the last time she saw him, it seems like the time have changed him as much as it has changed her but the other one, the last she saw him he was a boy, just like she was a girl, older than her but a stupid bull headed boy. Now he was a man grown but though they have seen each other after years it seems that she could reconnect with him from where they left, she knew things have changed, she was no longer a little girl with dirty clothes but she still saw that glint in Gendry’s eyes, as if he could still see her younger self _Arry_ .She trusted him with her secrets long ago and it seems like it was still the same, she still trusts him, no matter the time, she still can see that he was the same boy, the boy she fell in love with before she even knew what love was, the family she gained when she lost all the hope to find her home, when she left Bravos she thought she might find Winterfell but she can never find Arya Stark again but no she was proven wrong by this stupid man, even Jon cannot break her mask  like Gendry did and now here she stands, in the final hours of her life, with one last wish, she wants to spend them with her long lost friend, with man she knows if the life would have given her time she would have _loved_ and followed to end of the world because that’s what she was, that’s what Arya Stark was and she wants to feel what it feels like to be that girl again, to forget all the pain and find peace in her final hours and that’s what she was going to do.

 

* * *

 

 

Some  hours later here she was, in one of the storerooms of Winterfell, in the arms of the man she knew she trusts the most apart from her siblings, her head resting on his bare chest, her naked body covered with his cloak and his fingers drawing light circles on her back, she was right about finding Arya Stark again, Gendry was the final key in finding that _lost girl_ , she felt so many emotions in this one night with him that she have not felt in years, she felt pride when she held the staff he made for her because he’s got better at making weapons since the last she saw him, he was practically the master smith on Winterfell these days forging dragon glass weapons to defeat the dead, for that she felt pride as a friend, she felt shock when he told her he was the bastard son of Robert Baratheon, now she knew why the gold cloaks were behind him, why they wanted him. she felt anger when he told her what the red woman did to him and she felt jealousy, pure _jealousy_ when he answered with the number of women he have been with, he was hiding something there, she knew that much but he was not lying and she felt like a stupid little girl who wanted to kill those girls but what came after was something she has never felt before, she felt nervous when she took the first step towards him, nervous that he would refuse, that he would call her stupid for asking such a thing from him, she felt scared when he called her by her name “ _Arya_ ”, she felt loved when her lips met his, she felt excited when they started undressing each other and then she felt ashamed when his eyes followed her scares but she forgot every other emotion when she felt something she never felt before, she experienced _pleasure_ for the first time in her life, she never craved for it, always stayed away from the notion of it, never felt like she wanted to know what it felt like until she saw her lost friend again, only he raised such desires in her and she only trusted him with her soul and body.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Gendry’s voice, “Do you regret it?”

She would never, “Why would you think that?” she asked, moving her head a little to look into his beautiful blue orbs, they seem sad; _the stupid bull thinks I regret it_.

“Because you look like you are trying to figure something out” he replies.

“It doesn’t mean that I regret _this_ stupid” she relied, with a slight smile on her lips, he truly was the most stupidest man alive wasn’t he?

“May I ask what’s on your mind?” she can’t tell him that she loves him or what she felt tonight or she found herself because of him, no that was not possible, even if it was the final hours of their lives she can’t do that, not yet. So she did what she was good at, playing a game. A question for a question.

“Where did you learnt your way with words? You are good at hiding things now” she asked.

There was that brooding expression on his face, he looked more handsome when he thinks like that, she noted, “You know I am not good at riddles m’lady, spite it out for me please” came his reply.

Yes he was still the same boy, “Three girls” she gave a hint with a raised eyebrow.

“I didn’t lie about that Arry”

Her old name made her feel more alive, it felt like home. “I never said you were lying, I said you are hiding something”

His expression changed as if he was in pain and she felt like she shouldn’t have asked that question.

“It’s not a good story to tell, not for this time” came his pained reply.

“We don’t have any other time Gendry, Tell me I want to hear it?” she asked.

His eyes left hers, as he faced the ceiling now, “Please Arry don’t ask me that” he replied. However, Arya’s curiosity got the best of her. She turned so now she was facing him, supporting her weight on her elbows, she took a moment to observe his face, his expression was of pain, like whatever was on his mind was hurting him and it was clear that he wanted to avoid the subject but she wanted to know what was it that hurt him so much. “What is it?” she asked in a low tone.

“You won’t drop it right, you are still the biggest pain in my arse” he replied, he was a little irritated by her, she can see that but he took a sigh and blinked twice before speaking again.

“With those girls it never went far from kisses and touches, it never went _this_ far like it has between _us_ ” he stopped there, blinked again. Arya didn’t knew that she was holding a breath, it was selfish but she felt good to hear that those women never felt what she did tonight but the question was why, _he wasn’t bad at it_ , she can say that.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because every time I tried I saw her face in those women and all those three times I left in shame” came his pained reply. Now it made sense to her, he was talking about the Red witch, she did something to him.

“The red woman” the name left her lips and she felt his arm still and he sucked air as if he was reliving whatever that bitch did to him.

“Lets not talk about it, we have a battle to fight,we better to sleep m’lady, we haven’t been _resting_ exactly” he spoke in a hurried tone, like he wanted to drop the subject all together but now Arya was determined to know what that bitch did to him.

“What did she do to you Gendry, tell me” she said in tight tone, she wanted the whole story.

“We might die in the next some hours, it doesn’t even matter now?”

“It does to me, tell me”

“When she took me to that castle with her and told me I was a king’s son, I thought my life meant something like I was more than a no name bastard from flea bottom” he stopped with those words, she saw pain in those beautiful blue eyes of his, she felt a pang of sadness in her chest without even knowing the whole story, he always meant a lot to her, no name bastard or son of a king it doesn’t matter he was a good man and he was better than thousands that populate their world because just like Jon he had honor and a sense of justice in him but she knew he would never understand that. Would never understand his worth.

After a moment of silence, he continued, “The fact that I was young and foolish back then, that the only girl I ever spoke to was you, the fact that she was giving me too much attention like I was someone important” he paused as his voice cracked, Arya knew what it meant and she felt foolish to ask him that, anger that she insisted in knowing the story, his face was giving the same look that Sansa’s did when someone brought the Bolton name up, The red woman _used_ him for her will, her magic and it broke him.

“I was a fool back then Arry, It went so fast, one moment it felt like it was something good and in the next I was tied up on a bed and she was putting leaches all over me” another pause and Arya felt  tears forming in her eyes, It was unusual for her to cry but now she felt like she would and she felt like she would kill that bitch if she would find her, “I knew I was a low born bastard, I knew my life was useless but in that moment I felt like so small, so filthy that I wanted the ground would open and consume me, I never felt so small and foolish, I wanted to kill myself” and Arya saw a tear on the edge or his eyelash, he was holding them back.

She placed her hand on his chest, hoping that this gesture would tell him that he was so much more, he meant a world to her, that he was a good man and that’s what matters, that he was _loved_. “She was going to kill to me for her magic, the man who was supposed to be my uncle, Stannis, he also agreed to it but Ser Davos saved me and when I went back to Kings Landing, that memory haunted me, so I tried to remove it from my mind and I failed do so every time until _tonight_ ”

Now she knew _why_ , he trusts her just like she trusts him. They knew that they couldn’t hurt each other; all those years apart can’t change that. She moved a little so now her face was aligned with his, she can see the depth, the truth, the pain in his eyes and she wish she could take it back, in other terms it means that she was his _first_ like he was her because that damned red woman doesn’t count. His hands were now moving from her waist to her stomach, she kissed him then slow and lazy like they had all the time in this world, his fingers were now at her scars, tracing them, as their kiss ended, his eyes moved to the scars, an unsaid question in his eyes.

While tracing a one of her scars with a feather touch he asked, “Do they hurt?”

“Not anymore” she replied, while holding his gaze again. She knew what he wanted to know and now that he answered all her questions, no matter how painful it was for him, she owed him that at the very least. His concern was genuine.

Therefore, she told him about her time after they were separated, about her time with the hound, her time in bravos, about the House of black and white and how she earned those scars. His expressions were a mixture of pain and pride.

“So did you killed The waif?” he asked, anger on his brows, like if she haven’t, he would do it, just like she vows on killing the red woman for hurting him.

“Yes I did” she replied.

“Good” he said with a blank expression on his face, after a moment he said, “So you can change faces?”

It was like friends sharing what new tricks they have learned. “I haven’t done that in a while but yes I can” she replied, in that moment Arya thought maybe Gendry would just feel sick of her because it was sort of _sickening_ but he smiled and it was a smile of a pride like he was proud of her and her talents and for the hundredth time during this night she thought _he truly was stupid._

“That might give me a scare you know” he said with a chuckle. It made her laugh.

She moved again and he gathered her in his arms like she belonged there, _she thinks she does_ , maybe this is what being _loved_ and _accepted_ is like, Gendry have always accepted her the way she was, argued with her but followed her and it might be hard for her to admit but he have protected her more than once.

Her lips met his again and this time it was slow but passionate but before it could go any further, the stupid bull stopped it, “We must rest m’lady” he said,  while adjusting the cloak back to cover their bodies and the sane part of Arya knew he was right but she didn’t wanted it to stop, she wanted more but she need to focus too, there was a battle to come in any moment.

Arya tried to sleep but it never came, what came was  _fear_ , the deep hollow feeling in her chest, she was not afraid to die but her fear was about her family, about her pack, about her brothers and sister, about the north, about Winterfell, about the living and about the  _man_  who lay beside her, the man who tracked down the long lost Arya Stark. She does not want to survive if her pack fails to do so.

 

* * *

 

 

 

The call finally came, the horns blowing loudly, announcing the arrival of the marching death at their door. She was quick to dress and as she was adjusting catspaw at her side, Gendry came and stood in front  her, fully dressed with her newly made staff in his hands, he handed her the staff, a look in his eyes that was something she can’t name yet or maybe she doesn’t want to acknowledge it yet.

 “Do as much damage as you can Arry, those fuckers deserve it” he said, it made her feel proud because he trusted her talent in a fight now, he didn’t asked her to stay in the crypts like he did earlier that day.

Despite the death dancing around the wall of Winterfell, she smiled.

“You do the same Bull” she replied and raising on her tiptoes she moved forward to kiss him, maybe it was their last kiss so she took her time at that. When the kiss ended, their foreheads touching for a moment longer, he looked in her eyes and replied

“As m’lady commands”

 


End file.
